


Two Weeks Was Never Gonna Be Enough With You

by siriuslyuptonogood



Series: Forever Might Not Even Be Enough [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types
Genre: Corporal Punishment, Daddy Steve, Little!Bucky - Freeform, M/M, Mentions of PTSD, Non-Sexual Age Play, Sex Worker Bucky Barnes, Spanking, Steve Rogers is Captain American (semi-retired), but Bucky Barnes is not Winter Soldier, ddlb, he is a veteran tho, mentions of parental abuse, this is also fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-12
Updated: 2020-05-12
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:07:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24137101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/siriuslyuptonogood/pseuds/siriuslyuptonogood
Summary: Bucky Barnes, at thirty, is actually pretty happy with his life. After ten years as a sniper in the army, he was medically discharged following an injury on his third tour of duty. Now, he is mostly done with a history degree and has sex to pay his rent. And then, the new client he meets at a tea house turns out to be Captain America and is offering him 20k to be his little boy for two weeks. How is he supposed to say no to that? Two weeks in exchange for enough money to pay his rent for a year is not something he has any interest in passing up.He just didn't expect that being Captain America's little boy would feel so right.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Series: Forever Might Not Even Be Enough [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2013373
Comments: 59
Kudos: 440





	Two Weeks Was Never Gonna Be Enough With You

**Author's Note:**

> This is probably just a one-off, but who knows? maybe I'll play in this universe again. YOU NEVER KNOW with the likes of me. Also, I adore you all so much. Thank you for just being awesome.

The guy in front of Bucky is nicely dressed in brown slacks, brown leather oxfords, and a sage green cable knit sweater. He would look quite soft if not for the fact that the guy is huge. He's got a couple of inches on Bucky, but he is as broad as Bucky is narrow. He's got these broad shoulders and massive arm muscles visible through even the sweater. And the way he rubs his hands when he talks highlights how huge those are too. Bucky is glad he wore a nicer pair of jeans and a Henley instead of his normal ripped jeans t-shirt look.

The guy has this soft-looking blonde hair and a beard that is a couple of shades darker, but it's the eyes that get him. Bright, bright blue. And earnest, if eyes can even look earnest. And they look familiar.

They are in one of the private rooms that Bucky didn't know this teahouse even had. The guy, Steve, is sitting back just slightly in the armchair, perhaps to look more relaxed, less intimidating, not that it works. Bucky sits forward. He gets the feeling that Steve is waiting for the tea to arrive to start talking for real. So far it's just been chitchat, asking about Bucky's schooling. He is almost done with a history degree. Just one more year.

Steve offers the server a smile when she comes in bearing a tray. She places first the pot of tea with two small cups, then a three-tiered serving plate. Cucumber/cream cheese and egg salad sandwiches cut into triangles on the bottom and an assortment of little cakes, cookies, and tarts spread out on the top two layers. She sets out a bowl of fruit and then makes sure they don't need anything else before she leaves, closing the door behind her.

This all seems out of place for Bucky, who was under the impression that this guy wanted to hire his services. He isn't an escort, after all. He's never been treated this nice. But he also mostly does cam shows and only has a few clients he sees in person.

Steve waits until they have both served themselves to really start talking.

"Are you familiar with age play?" He sips his tea and Bucky nearly chokes. He manages not to and sets the sandwich he'd been nibbling down on his plate.

"Like callin’ you Daddy while you fuck me?" he asks.

Steve presses his lips together. "Somewhat," he says, "but I prefer my age play to be nonsexual."

"Oh, then I'm lost," Bucky replies.

"It can also be called age regression. Can be very therapeutic. But it's simply pretending to be younger than you are. Say, like a child."

"Like with diapers and shit?" Bucky asks, lips curling in distaste.

"Can be, if that's what you're into. I prefer an older mindset. Five or six," Steve says.

"So, I'd pretend to be a kid, or you would?" Bucky asks, biting into a triangle of egg salad.

"You," Steve replies, sipping his tea again. He sets it down and puts a grape in his mouth.

Bucky thinks about that while he chews.

"You said nonsexual, so what do you get out of it?" he asks when he's swallowed.

"I enjoy taking care of my partners."

"So, I'd pretend to be a kid. Let you take care of me? Call ya Daddy?" Bucky asks.

Steve nods. "You'd be giving up complete control to me. I would be Daddy. I would make the rules. You would be punished for disobedience."

Bucky's stomach swoops and he takes a sip of tea. The idea of punishment has always thrilled him more than he wants to admit.

"Punishment such as?"

"Spankings are my preferred method. Quick and to the point. But I'm also partial to time outs."

Bucky bites his lip to keep from shuddering. He likes the idea of being over this big man's lap getting a spanking. "Alright," he says, "so what are you offering?"

"For two weeks you come and live with me as my little boy. At the end, I'll pay you twenty grand," Steve says like that's not a whole lot of money. Bucky does choke that time and has to take a few minutes before he can talk again.

"Seriously?" he asks. Because twenty grand is next year's living expenses. He could stop doing sex work completely. That would be very nice. Though the exhibitionist in him would miss the cam work.

"Yes," Steve says. "For two weeks of being with me constantly, I think that is quite fair."

Bucky has never been offered so much money in his life.

"Okay," he says after a second, "deal."

Steve smiles. It's a little blinding, but Bucky finds he loves it.

"You'll need to sign a non-disclosure agreement, of course, but that is easy enough to take care of," Steve says, offhand.

"Non-disclosure?"

Steven shrugs. "Don't know it would go over well the media knowing what Captain America does behind closed doors," he says, like it doesn't matter and Bucky gapes.

That's why the bastard is familiar. Bucky has just agreed to be Captain America's little boy.

"I thought you recognized me, apologies," Steve says.

"I couldn't figure out why you looked familiar," Bucky replies.

"Does this change your mind?" Steve asks and he looks unsure now, for the first time. Bucky gives his head a shake and Steve smiles. "Good."

They spend the rest of their time talking. Steve seems to want to get to know Bucky. When the tea is gone and the last of the sweets have been eaten, Steve pulls out a card. "I want you to go to this tailor in the next few days and get measured. I will send you some paperwork through your website email that I'd like you to print and fill out. Questionnaires and such. I want you to look over the papers, be honest about what will make you uncomfortable. Get your affairs in order for two weeks. I will pick you up wherever you feel comfortable on Saturday evening. "

Bucky nods. And Steve smiles. He leans forward and offers Bucky his hand. Bucky takes it.

"I look forward to this, James," Steve says.

"Call me Bucky, sir," Bucky replies.

"Bucky," Steve repeats it a few times, then nods. He smiles. "I much prefer Daddy to sir. But sir is fine for now."

Bucky reaches out, bold, and wraps his slim fingers around Steve's wrist. "I'll see you Saturday, Daddy."

Steve gets this look, a little dazed, pupils blown, and Bucky likes that power. He presses a kiss to Steve's cheek and leaves. 

Bucky gets the promised paperwork before the day is over. There is a kink checklist. He goes over everything. He also provides a lot of reading on age play, something for which Bucky is very grateful. He is up until almost three am reading and going over the paperwork.

It's summer now, so he doesn't have plans for most of his days. He goes to the tailor the next afternoon and lets himself be measured.

When he gets home, there is another email. He can't help the pleasure that washes over him when Steve praises him for doing as he's asked. There is also a phone number. Easier to communicate than email, but Steve makes it very clear that it is Bucky's choice. Bucky rolls his eyes and texts Steve almost immediately.

_What should I pack to bring with me?_

_You don't have to bring anything. I will provide anything you need or want. If you want some comforts of home, though, don't feel like you can't bring anything._

Bucky sends back thanks and an emoji. He does more research on age play. Something is alluring about the idea of just getting to be carefree. He's been on his own since seventeen since he came out to his parents and his dad threw him out. He'd couch surfed until graduation and then signed his life away to the U.S. Army.

He'd been in ten years, a highly decorated sniper, when he got shot in the shoulder. He hadn't thought much about it, did some simple first aid out in the field, kept his arm immobile, but it wasn't until he'd gotten back and been able to seek actual medical attention that he learned how bad it was. That his shoulder was fucked. That his career as a sniper was over.

He'd been discharged and by that time his sister lived in New York City and he moved in with her for a few months before he got into school.

At thirty, he is proud of what he's done. Even of the sex work, which he'd been so ashamed of at first. The GI Bill pays his tuition, but he'd struggled to hold down a job since he got back. At first, it was a combination of PTSD and the pain his shoulder would give him the rest of his life that pushed him toward sex work. He could cam on his terms. It took him a year to agree to meet any clients. But he enjoyed having sex. If it paid his rent, he didn't mind so much.

He thinks he could hold a job now. Three years of therapy have helped to control the nightmares, insomnia, and panic attacks, and physical therapy means he can do most things. He still has limitations. He's never going to hold a manual labor position.

Bucky is a survivor. Has always figured out how to get by. Still, letting Steve take care of him while he just gets to play and color and watch cartoons sounds amazing.

He worries a little about how strict Steve will be. He had a strict father already. Spent a lot of time feeling the smack of his hand, shoe, belt, whatever he could reach at the time, coming down on his bare ass.

Bucky used to hate how much he wanted to be punished after he left. That, even before the sex work, he'd let guys throw him over their lap and turn his ass red, that he craved it. But there was a difference too. There was the holding after, forgiving, telling him that he was a good boy again. That even though he'd been naughty, it didn't mean he was any less loved. His father had skipped all those parts. And he'd learned that they were important. That he didn't deserve to be left alone, crying, feeling guilty and in pain, feeling lonely and unloved.

He'd crossed belts off the list Steve sent him. He still remembered the cut of the buckle the day he left. His dad determined to "beat the fag" right out of him. He'd almost hated his mother more at that moment for not doing a damn thing, but she kept Becca back as his sister screamed and shouted for their father to stop. He'd have hit her too if she'd tried to get in his way. The worst part of leaving wasn't that his parents didn't seem to want him. The worst part was leaving Becca behind. He couldn't protect her. She was almost sixteen, less than two years younger than him. It had always been his job to protect his baby sister.

Becca moved out for college and gave their mother an ultimatum. Them or him. Last he'd heard, his mother was living with her best friend in Michigan and working in a yarn shop. His dad was still somewhere in Indiana. Bucky doesn't care if he ever sees him again.

 _Can you talk me through how you handle spankings?_ He texts Steve, letting his nerves win out.

_I like to get the scolding out of the way first. And then a few minutes in the corner. I always pull down my boy's pants and underwear for a spanking. I'll use my hand. Usually, that's enough. If I need a little more, I have a specific wooden spoon. I also have a hairbrush, but that's reserved specifically to deter my boy from ever doing something dangerous again. After the spanking, I like to hold my boy for a while, check-in with how he is doing, and then we continue with our day._

Bucky lets out a soft sigh of relief. _Something dangerous? Like?_

_I had a boy who was quite short and would climb on my bookcases to get things. I had painted cement floors at the time. We talked a few times about how bookshelves aren't meant to hold little boys and if one broke and he fell, he could get very hurt. I used the hairbrush for that. Going to the pool alone while in a young headspace. Things like that. There is always a warning first and an explanation of why it is dangerous. I promise I don't just go in hairbrush blazing._

Bucky laughs and shakes his head.

 _I don't like the idea of making you worry by doing something dangerous_ , he admits.

_Good, because I would definitely worry._

Bucky chews at his lower lip. He wants to tell Steve about his dad, about his fears. He debates for a long time.

_My father is a spare the rod; spoil the child kinda guy. I have some scars and only a few that you can actually see on my skin. I have done one-off spankings over the years but haven't had a strict paternal authority figure for more than a few hours._

A few minutes of dots across the screen follow, then a pause, then, _Can I call you?_

Bucky takes a deep breath and doesn't text back, just hits call.

"I am never going to hurt you," Steve says as soon as the call connects. "I want you to be able to let go and just let me take care of everything. And for that to happen, I have to make it, so you feel safe. So that you can trust me."

Bucky lets out a soft breath. "That sounds good," he says. "I just... have been thinking too much."

"Happens, Bucky." And Steve sounds like he knows.

Bucky sighs, running his fingers through his hair. It's long now, longer than it's ever been before.

"Would you like to do something for me? It will give you something to focus on," asks Steve and that actually sounds nice.

"Please."

"I want you to use your laptop to make me a few lists. I know you could do this on your phone, but the structure of sitting at a table or desk and making these lists will help keep your focus."

"Okay," Bucky replies.

"First, make a list of any allergies. Food first, then anything else. Then I want you to make a list of all of your favorite food, then a list of anything that isn't your favorite, but you'll still eat, and then a list of things you do not like at all and do not want to eat. Little boys can sometimes be very difficult about food, so I like this list to know if you're not eating your broccoli because you actually hate it or because little boys don't like to eat vegetables."

Bucky hums, thinking that over. He likes veggies. Always has. His sister was the picky eater growing up.

"I can do that," he says.

"Can you get it to me by lunch tomorrow?" Steve asks.

"I can," Bucky replies. 

"Good boy," says Steve. "I have to go, though. I'll see you Saturday."

"See you then," Bucky says.

He moves to do the task immediately and does feel better. He likes that Steve has given him a task more than he thought he would. It takes him two hours to finish, but he is happy with it. He looks it over a few times and then sends it off to Steve who texts him almost immediately. Bucky could get used to getting praised for following simple instructions.

He takes himself out to dinner and a movie. That night, when he gets back, he texts Steve again.

_I'm a veteran. I was a sniper in the army for ten years. Did three tours in the middle east and got hurt the last time. Medically discharged a little more than two years ago. I'm okay, mostly, nightmares sometimes, not often. And the shoulder gives me trouble on occasion. Don't think it'll come up, but I wanted you to know._

_Thank you for letting me know. Do you want to talk about it in more detail?_

_No, I'm okay. Just wanted you to know._

Bucky doesn't have any plants. He has a fish, but Steve said he could bring Harley along. That he even has a fish tank for him where he can be safe. No other pets. He brings his valuables. Which boils down to his laptop and phone. He cleans out his refrigerator, unplugs everything but that, and is sitting on the stoop with his backpack and Harley's bowl when a black SUV rolls up. Steve climbs out the back. Today he is wearing jeans and a long-sleeved tee. He smiles when he sees Bucky.

"Hi, ready?"

Bucky stands and nods. Steve holds his hands out to take the fishbowl so Bucky can climb in.

"Harley is a nice-looking fish," he says when he hands the bowl back to Bucky.

"The blue and red made me think of Harley Quinn. I figured he didn't mind being named after a badass like her," Bucky says. "He is feisty like her too. But that's expected from a beta."

Steve smiles as they start to pull away from the curb.

"So, I'm going to make dinner and we are just going to relax. Our two weeks starts tomorrow, but I wanted to help you get into the mindset tonight."

Bucky nods, that makes sense. "How?"

"A bath. Some little boy pajamas and a tuck-in story," Steve replies.

Bucky nods again. That makes sense. He wonders if he will get to bathe himself or if that's a Daddy thing. His face gets hot at the idea of Steve bathing him, but he doesn't hate it.

They drive out of town. Bucky was prepared for this. Steve has a house out of the city, and he has an apartment in the city. They are going to spend two weeks at the house.

Bucky knows from his research that Steve has retired as Captain America, but he is still a consultant. And he is, and always will be, a super soldier, so he hasn't completely retired from all of that. Just mostly. He's given interviews about it and how nice it is sometimes to just be able to go off the grid for a few days and no have to worry about the world imploding while you're gone. But Captain America isn't something he can just stop being. He was the first. And he will always respond to it.

The more Bucky researched, the more he admired the man. And he felt a little more intimidated.

The property has a big wall around it and a wrought iron gate. There are trees and a lot of land. The house isn't visible from the road. But it takes Bucky's breath away. It's a beautiful brick beast with three floors and a garden beds in front, all perfectly maintained.

A man in a black suit opens the door from them and takes Bucky's backpack, but Bucky backs away when he tries to take Harley.

"It's fine, Lee," Steve says. He presses a hand to the small of Bucky's back and leads him into the house.

Inside is not at all what Bucky expects. The house itself is so fancy and imposing, but inside looks cozy. Warm colors throughout the open first floor. All of the furniture looks like it has been picked out with comfort in mind.

"Harley's vacation home," Steve says, voice soft as he points to the fish tank set into the wall between the dining and sitting room. "I haven't been here enough to get fish. So, I figured Harley could enjoy it."

Bucky grins as Steve opens up a panel above the tank. "I have a cup like they send them home from in the stores. If we pour some of his water and him, we can float the cup until he has acclimated."

Bucky, amazed, had planned to just pour him in and feels guilty. He is a bad fish dad. He lets Steve take the lead and then they leave Harley floating in his cup.

"When we've finished the tour, he'll be ready to be free."

Bucky just nods. He feels a little overwhelmed. He takes Steve's offered hand and follows. They go up to the second floor next. Steve's office is on this floor, plus a lush looking living room with a huge tv and couches that look great for naps. They walk through Steve's office and Steve stops.

"This is one of two rooms I had redone this week," he says and it's almost as if he is nervous to show Bucky. But he shouldn't have worried because Bucky gasps. The room is painted green, a nice, rich green, with a dark, redwood trees throughout. The same wood color makes up the trim and the built-in shelving that goes throughout the room. One corner is a small library with a big, squishy looking armchair that looks big enough for two full-grown adults. Well, perhaps not two Steves, but definitely a Steve and a Bucky. There is a table and shelves of art supplies in another corner. One corner is just toys and the last has the biggest beanbag chair Bucky has seen in his life. He gasps again when he looks up to see that the ceiling has been painted to look like the night sky.

"You did this for me? It looks like a forest!" Bucky turns, looking at Steve who just smiles. Bucky can't help himself. He hugs Steve and almost immediately feels Steve's arms wrap around him. Bucky doesn't know if he's ever been hugged so well in his whole life before this moment.

"You said you liked the trees. That was the biggest thing you missed living in New York, so I thought you could have a forest in your playroom."

Bucky smiles. "Thank you, Daddy," he says, and it's easy to say.

"You are very welcome," Steve says. "One more floor."

Bucky nods and pulls away. He lets Steve lead him out a different door, into the hallway. There are two guest rooms on this floor, but Bucky isn't interested in those, so they go upstairs.

"This floor is just for me and my boy," Steve says. The whole floor seems to be the master bedroom and Bucky is immediately in love with the sloped ceilings and the balcony. The room is painted a very calming blue color and the wood is all lighter colored up here. It reminds him a lot of Steve's blond hair and blue eyes. The large four-poster bed has matching bedside tables and dressers and Bucky kind of loves it. He's always loved the idea of bedroom furniture sets. There was something so complete about it.

Steve shows him the bathroom first. There is a beautiful single shower with blue, green, and gray tiles that look like marble and enough space for more than one person. There is also a tub, perhaps the biggest clawfoot tub Bucky had seen in his whole life.

On the opposite side of the bedroom from the bathroom is a door and Steve pauses outside of it. Bucky, who until this moment had assumed it was a closet, pauses too until Steve opens it and reveals a whole bedroom. The walls are a light purple color and the wood is the same as out in the bigger bedroom, but all the linens are a dark plum color. Bucky's favorite color. He looks at Steve.

"This is your room," Steve says, watching his reaction. "Where you will sleep for the next two weeks. Have a look around."

Bucky looks at him for a few more seconds and then starts to explore. He sits on the bed. It's very comfortable. In the corner is another of the big chairs, though this one is plum too. And a bookshelf. He crouches to look at the books. Children's books. Some he recognizes, some he specifically mentioned to Steve, some he hasn't heard of. He goes to the closet next and pulls open the door. Full of clothes. Little boy clothes. He sees colors he hasn't worn in a long time. Colorful shorts, shortalls. He feels a thrill, then looks in the drawers of the dresser. T-shirts with fun characters, a drawer full of briefs with cartoon characters or fun patterns. Fun pajamas. Even his socks at least all have fun patterns on them. He is so blown away. He gets it, that Steve wants him to be a little boy and he wants to take care of him, but no one, not in his whole life, has ever done so much for him. Has ever gone so far out of their way to make sure that Bucky has things that make him happy like Steve has done. He has tears in his eyes when he hugs Steve this time.

"Thank you," he whispers, and Steve holds him tight.

"One more thing," Steve says and he gently pushes Bucky to sit on the edge of the bed before he disappears. He comes back and Steve has a stuffed sloth in his hands and then presses it into Bucky's.

"Every little boy deserves to have a stuffed friend," he says, sinking into a crouch in front of Bucky who is still, staring down at the sloth.

Bucky loves the sloth. He hadn't been able to figure out why Steve would need the information of his favorite animal, but here it is. He sniffs a little and squeezes his new sloth tight against him. He looks down at Steve.

"Wanna be your little boy right now," he says quietly because he isn't yet, has just been shown what it will be like and he can't remember ever feeling this good before.

Steve looks surprised, first, then so pleased.

"Are you sure?" he asks.

Bucky keeps one arm tight around the sloth and holds the other out to Steve. "Please, Daddy," he says. He didn't expect it to be this easy. He expected it to be hard, to be weird, awkward, to take a few days to settle in, but he wants it now more than he's ever wanted anything.

Steve stands and leans on, pulling Bucky against his chest, holding him tight

"So, we are going to go downstairs and release Harley, then have supper. After supper, a bath and we can watch a movie in pajamas until bed. Does that sound good, sweetheart?" Steve asks. Bucky nods.

Then he learns that his new Daddy can carry him. That Bucky can wrap his legs around Steve's waist and be carried on his hip through the house.

The let Harley be free and then Steve sits Bucky down on the counter, making sure he is fairly far back and starts to make dinner.

"We are having macaroni and cheese, peas, and chicken," Steve says softly and Bucky's eyes widen.

"Peas," he says.

Steve gives him a big smile. "Uh-huh," he says. "Because my little boy loves peas."

"Bit'a chicken and then peas and then macaroni. Best bite," Bucky says, rubbing the sloth against his cheek.

"I'll have to try it," Steve replies.

Bucky nods.

He swings his feet a little on the counter while Steve cook, then plates, setting them down at the table before coming to get Bucky.

"Sloth has to stay on the counter here while we eat." Steve's voice is soft, but Bucky's arm tightens around his new friend.

"But why?" And his voice is quiet and unsure.

"Well, if you get a little messy from supper that's okay because you're getting a bath. But if he gets messy from supper, he'd have to go in the washing machine and then the dryer and he might not be done by the time you're done with your bath and ready to watch a movie."

"Oh." Bucky offers the sloth.

"Good boy," Steve says and then lifts Bucky off the counter, carrying him to the table and sitting him down before walking back into the kitchen.

Bucky doesn't pick up his fork. Steve gets them both water. Bucky's is in a cup with a lid and a straw. Bucky still doesn't pick up his fork.

Steve pauses in pulling out his chair.

"Is everything okay, sweetheart?"

Bucky looks up at him, eyebrows knitted together. "Waiting."

"For what?"

"Blessing. It's bad, bad, bad to eat before praying," he says.

Steve sits down slowly, watching him. "I don't usually say grace. You don't have to wait."

Bucky looks at him. "Won't be in trouble?"

Steve reaches out and takes his hand. "No, honey, no. If you want to have a blessing before we eat, we can, but we don't have to, and there's no trouble."

Bucky nods and carefully picks up his fork, as if still unsure.

"Have you gotten in trouble for that before?" Steve asks.

"Yeah. Spankin' and bed without dinner," Bucky replies pushing his peas around.

"Can you look at Daddy a minute?"

Bucky does.

"You aren't ever gonna get a spanking from me for something you don't know about. We will always talk about it first. And you will never go to bed without supper," Steve says. "Not ever, okay?"

Bucky relaxes a little and nods. "Kay, Daddy." He starts to eat happily. His chicken is already cut up into bite-sized pieces and he gets a bit of everything on his fork every time and eats slowly. When he finally finishes, he looks up and Steve is just watching him. His eyes widen.

"Did I eat too slow, Daddy?" he asks.

"No, no, honey. You just looked like you were enjoying it. Did you get enough to eat?" Steve replies.

Bucky leans back and gently pats his stomach. "No more room."

Steve chuckles. "Alright, then, can you carry your plate to the sink?"

Bucky pushes his chair and carefully carries his plate to the kitchen. He starts to rinse it off in the sink when he feels Steve come up behind him.

"You don't have to do that, sweetheart," he says softly, "I'll take care of the dishes."

Bucky turns so he is facing Steve. "Wanna help, Daddy."

Steve smiles, ducking his head slightly.

"You're so sweet, Bucky. How about I give you something and you can wipe off the table while I load the dishwasher."

"Kay!" Bucky says.

Steve bends and pulls out a cloth. He wets it, rings it out, and hands it to Bucky who runs to wipe down the table.

"Ready for a bath, sweetheart?" Steve asks when they are both done. He scoops Bucky up again and Bucky likes this a lot. He wraps his arms around Steve's neck.

"Sloth, Daddy," he says and settles when his sloth is in his arms again and they are on their way upstairs.

Steve sets him on his feet by the door to his bedroom. "Pick out your jammies, sweetheart, while I draw a bath."

Bucky picks out a pajama set that has a teddy pattern on the blue cotton shorts and the t-shirt is gray and blue, baseball style, with a breast pocket with a teddy bear. He spends much longer in picking out his briefs but finally settle on a pair that are black and yellow with the batman symbol across the front. He sits on his bed, the clean clothes folded on the edge, and hugs his sloth.

He looks up with Steve enters the room and grins. He holds out one arm, the other keeping his sloth close to him.

Steve leans in and wraps his arms around Bucky. "Sloth has to stay on the bed while you have a bath, little one."

Bucky considers, then carefully leaves his sloth on the bed and wraps his arms both around Steve and lets himself be carried to the bathroom.

Bucky freezes when he's back on his feet at Steve starts to pull his shirt off over his head.

"Daddy," he says quickly, "gonna be naked."

Steve pauses and glances at him a second, a little amused. "You can't wear your clothes in the bath, little boy," he says.

Bucky can feel his face get hot and he shifts on his feet a little.

Steve slides his hands up Bucky's arms, just gently holding him by his upper arms. "You don't have anything Daddy doesn't have, you know," he says softly. "Do you want to undress for the bath. Your clothes go in the hamper against the wall."

Bucky considers and then turns away as he strips off his clothes. He can hear Steve chuckle, but he doesn't turn back around. He hesitates on his boxers but pulls them down and drops everything into the hamper. He squeaks when his feet come off the floor and Steve deposits him in the bathtub.

"Daddy!" he huffs and sits down in the water. He can sink to his shoulders into the hot water.

He sighs happily, eyes falling closed. He feels so good and relaxed. He almost forgets where he is for a second, but then he opens his eyes, and Steve is sitting on the edge of the tub, watching him with a soft smile.

"Wanna live here," Bucky says. "Like a mermaid."

Steve chuckles. "You might get a little pruney, little one."

Being bathed turns out to be a little awkward at first, but as soon as Steve starts to wash his hair, Bucky slips so far down into the headspace that he is soft and compliant. He doesn't even really think about the fact that Steve is very thorough in cleaning him, just lets his body be manipulated as Steve sees fit.

"Time to get out."

Bucky opens his eyes and pouts. "Bath is so nice, Daddy," he says. But he stands and finds himself stood on the bathmat, wrapped up in a towel fairly quickly.

"Can I take a bath tomorrow?" Bucky asks.

"Maybe," Steve replies, drying him off before he scoops Bucky up and carries him to the bedroom.

Bucky is so warm and relaxed, and his body is loose as Steve dresses him.

"You like it when Daddy takes care of you, hm?"

"Liked it when you washed my hair," Bucky replies.

"Do you want your hair brushed and braided?"

"Please, Daddy!"

"Alright, sit on the bed, I'll go get my hairbrush," Steve says.

Bucky sits cross-legged on his bed and waits until Steve comes back and slots himself behind him. He sighs at the feeling of having his hair played with and then leans back against Steve after he's finished. He could fall asleep like this, warm and comfortable from the bath, wrapped up in Steve's arms.

"Let's go watch a movie, sweetheart," Steve says and Bucky manages to grab his sloth before Steve whisks him out of the room and downstairs.

Bucky picks a movie but doesn't remember much of it. He stays cuddled up with Steve and cares more about that than anything else. He gets tucked into his bed, his sloth friend snuggled right in next to him and has a kiss pressed to his forehead, feeling happy and content. After his light is turned off, Bucky turns toward the partially open door, listening as Steve gets ready for bed before his lift goes off too. Just a few hours with Steve and he is already smitten. He loves being cared for and spoiled. He's looking forward to the next two weeks. 

Steve wakes him up in the morning and carries him to the big chair in the corner and cuddles him. Bucky hasn't ever been able to just get up and start his day. He has always needed to lay around and really wake up before being willing to get out of bed. He finds that wake up time is even better cuddled up in Steve's arms while Steve quietly tells him what their day has in store.

It's easy for him to let Steve take control. He doesn't even really have to think much, though sometimes Steve gives him choices. Pancakes or French toast for breakfast. Coloring or a book. A movie or playtime. But Bucky is not offered a choice when it comes to nap time and it's not even the fact that he has to take a nap that has him unhappy. No, what has him making a fuss is that he was comfy cuddling against Steve's chest and now he is being put into his bed alone. He clings to Steve.

"Nooooo," he whines.

"Bucky, little boys have to take their naps," Steve says.

"Don't wanna! No naps!"

"Little boy, you're going to take a nap. You need to stop fighting this minute and lie down or you're going to find yourself napping on your tummy with a sore bottom," Steve warns and Bucky doesn't like that either.

"Not fair!" he cries, "naps are stupid. Won't!"

Steve sighs and he sits down on the edge of the bed. 

Bucky still clings to Steve, but he starts to squirm as he feels his shorts and underwear be pulled down.

"No! Daddy! No!" he squeals, but Steve just wraps his arm tight around Bucky's back and starts to swat his bare bottom.

Bucky howls and presses his face against Steve's neck.

Steve doesn't spank him for too long, just long enough for Bucky to stop squirming and fighting. Bucky cries. His bottom hurts and he still doesn't want to take a nap, but he doesn't fight Steve now, lets him put him down on his tummy in bed. His underwear gets pulled back up, but his shorts are tugged off.

Bucky is still crying a little when Steve lays down next to him and rubs his back.

"Daddy hates spanking you, baby," Steve says softly, "but you have to listen, and you have to take your nap."

"I'm sorry, Daddy," Bucky whispers, squirming close to him.

"All is forgiven, Bucky. You're Daddy's good little boy." Steve stays until Bucky falls asleep.

They settle in easily. It feels like Steve has always been Bucky's daddy. Sure, there are hiccups. Bucky gets a few swats for a couple of different things and he earns himself a time out for throwing a toy when he gets mad, but after his pre-nap spanking on Sunday, Bucky doesn't really get in trouble until Friday.

He doesn't sleep well. Nightmares keep him tossing and turning. He is exhausted when Steve pulls him out of bed in the morning and is quiet and a little sullen throughout the day. He doesn't fight his nap, not wanting to get another spanking for that, but he doesn't sleep. Can't even seem to close his eyes for more than a few minutes. This doesn't help his mood at all.

Dinner is where it goes bad. Steve makes pepperoni pizza with peas to go along with it. Bucky eats two pieces of pizza and wants more.

"Peas first, Buck," Steve says.

"Peas are gross," Bucky replies, crossing his arms. "Want pizza."

"No more pizza until your peas are gone," Steve says and his voice is firm in the way that means no matter how much Bucky pleads, he won't get more pizza until he eats his peas.

"Want pizza!"

"Eat your peas."

Bucky growls down at his peas. He picks one up between his fingers and squishes it.

"Bucky, eat, don't play."

"I hate peas," Bucky says.

"You don't have to eat them. You just can't have more pizza."

Bucky kicks at the table. "This is stupid. I hate peas and it's not fair. Want pizza."

Steve reaches out and gently grips around Bucky's upper arm. "Bucky, you need to check your attitude."

Bucky jerks his arm away, growls. This is stupid and unfair. He should get pizza. He shouldn't have to eat peas. Peas are stupid and he doesn't want to eat them. He isn't going to eat them. 

He shoves his bowl of peas off the table. There is a clatter and a wet sound and Bucky immediately regrets it. He regrets it even more when he sees Steve's face.

"Daddy," he says, and Steve takes hold of his upper arm and pulls him out of his chair and marches him right to the corner of the kitchen.

"You've been unhappy all day and I've asked, but you haven't wanted to tell me. That's fine, but you don't get to be rude to me and you do not get to throw food on the floor for not getting your way. Face the corner." Steve says and he leaves Bucky there.

He leaves Bucky there for _hours_ well, no, but longer than Bucky has ever had to be in the corner, and he is on the verge of tears. He can hear Steve doing the dishes, but he doesn't turn. He knows he isn't supposed to.

"Bucky, come here," Steve says finally and Bucky turns to see him sitting in a dining chair pulled away from the table, a wooden spoon in his hand. His insides clench, but he moves to Steve.

"You were very disrespectful to me and to the meal that I made for you. You're going to get a spanking with my hand and wooden spoon and then a bath and pajamas. You're going to bed early tonight," Steve says and Bucky just nods. Steve undoes the buttons on his shorts and pulls them down and off. He tugs Bucky's briefs down to his knees and puts him over his lap.

Steve starts with his hand and covers every inch of Bucky's bare bottom.

Tears come easy from a combination of the pain, the guilt, and just feeling so exhausted, but Bucky kicks and squirms in Steve's grasp. He knows he deserves this spanking. He's been sullen and grumpy all day and deserved a spanking more than once. But that doesn't mean he just takes it.

He cries aloud, kicking harder when Steve starts in with the wooden spoon. It doesn't last long, but Bucky is sobbing when Steve finishes. Steve maneuvers him so he can cling to Steve, burying his face against his neck as he cries.

"I'm sorry, Daddy. M'sorry I was bad. So sorry," Bucky cries and Steve holds him tight.

"You took your spanking, little one," Steve says, "you are forgiven. Daddy's sweet little boy."

Steve doesn't rush him, just holds him tight until he's stopped crying and then he picks him up.

"Made a mess, Daddy," Bucky sniffs.

"I know, baby. But I cleaned it up. Let's go get you bathed and into some jammies."

The warm water makes him whimper a little. His bottom is so sore, but, as usual, as soon as Steve starts to wash his hair, Bucky can just relax and let go. After he is dried off and in his jammies, Steve gets him into bed, and they cuddle a while.

"Daddy," Bucky whines when Steve starts to pull away.

"Bedtime, little one," Steve says, and that makes Bucky cry, not stopping even when he is wrapped up in Steve's arms again.

"Bucky, honey? What's the matter?"

"I'm tired, Daddy," he sobs.

"I... honey, you're in bed. It's time to go to sleep."

"M'too scared. Can't sleep."

Steve is quiet a second and then tilts Bucky's head back, cupping his cheek. "Nightmares?"

"When I close my eyes, it's bad stuff," Bucky mumbles.

"You slept poorly last night, huh?" Steve doesn't wait until Bucky replies to go on. "You should tell Daddy when you have nightmares, Buck."

"M'sorry," Bucky cries.

"Shh, baby, it's okay." Steve sits up. He scoops Bucky up and carries him out into the master bedroom. "You can sleep with Daddy tonight. If you have any nightmares, I'll be right here."

Bucky sniffs, nodding.

"Get comfy while Daddy gets ready for bed," Steve says.

"Sloth, Daddy?"

"Course."

Bucky crawls under the blankets, settling in the middle of the bed. He closes his eyes, wrapping his arms around himself.

"Sloth and Daddy have returned," Steve says snuggling in next to him. Bucky finds himself wrapped up in Steve's arms and it already feels better. He falls asleep easily, letting his exhaustion take him. And when he does wake up in the dark, heart pounding and reaches out for Steve, he's right there, just like he promised.

Bucky's favorite day is the second Wednesday. It starts a little rough because Steve has to work in his office for the whole morning, leaving Bucky to play alone and he throws the tiniest little fit and receives a swat to the seat of his shortalls and some time in the corner while Steve makes breakfast. After that, Bucky is just sad all through breakfast, right up until Steve plops him up on the counter to have a serious talk.

"I know you're sad about having to play by yourself this morning, little one, but right after lunch, we will take a nap and then I'm yours for the rest of the day," Steve says, gently brushing Bucky's hair from his eyes.

"We take a nap?" Bucky asks, eyeing him.

"Yep."

"In Daddy's bed?"

"If you want to, yes," Steve promises, "and if you're extra well-behaved, I'll have a big surprise for you."

Bucky bounces a little on the counter at that. A nap in Daddy's bed AND a big surprise?

"Ready to go up to your playroom?" Steve asks and Bucky launches himself forward, knowing his Daddy will catch him. He does, of course, and carries Bucky upstairs, leaving him in his playroom.

The playroom is well-equipped to keep him entertained for a whole morning. He plays first, building a tower out of blocks, then knocking it down with a dinosaur toy. He does it a few times, then shoves all the blocks back into their container before moving on to some reading. He takes a couple of books over to the beanbag chair because Sloth doesn't like to read in the armchair without Steve. Bucky agrees, as usual, with Sloth. When he is done with that, he moves to the table to do some art. He ends up making his own story about Sloth going on an adventure and fighting a dragon. That's what he's doing when Steve comes in. Bucky feels him come up behind him and then lets out a soft sigh at the feeling of Steve's fingers combing through his hair.

"What are you drawing, little one?" he asks.

"A book, Daddy," Bucky says, trying not to let the nice feeling distract him. "Sloth was sad that wasn't a story about him. So, I made one."

"You are so sweet, Bucky," Steve says and he crouches next to Bucky. "Want me to give you a few minutes to finish? I can go make lunch."

Bucky tilts his head slightly, then nods. Steve kisses his cheek and heads downstairs.

When he finishes, he folds the pages together like a real book and looks at it, proud of himself. He puts his crayons and paper away and takes his book to Steve's office. He leaves it on the desk so Steve can staple it, then goes downstairs.

"There's my little Buck," Steve says, opening his arms. Bucky all but flies into them and is scooped up into a big hug and then carried to the table.

After a lunch of grilled ham and cheese, carrot sticks, and Bucky's favorite potato chips (Baked Lays), Steve takes their dishes. "Stay here, baby."

Bucky does, swinging his feet a little, waiting while Steve cleans up from lunch. When Steve comes back, he has two naked cupcakes, purple, blue, and white frosting in little cups, and a few colors of sprinkles.

"Daddy?" Bucky asks, sitting up.

"I had Lee go into town and get us some cupcakes. Thought we could decorate them together." Steve sets everything out in front of Bucky and then sits next to him.

"This is my surprise?" Bucky asks.

"Like it?"

"Yeah! It's the best, thank you, Daddy!"

Steve leans in and kisses his cheek. "You were so good for me, playing by yourself so I could get some work done. You deserve a treat."

Bucky proceeds to add every color of frosting and sprinkle to his cupcake. He makes a huge mess, but Steve doesn't say anything about that, just smiles at him fondly every few minutes.

Eating the cupcake proves even messier and Bucky ends up on the counter by the sink while Steve cleans all the frosting and sugar off his face and hands. Bucky doesn't mind. He's happy and full, about to go take a nap in his Daddy's bed.

He is yawning when Steve gets him upstairs and starts to undo the straps on his shortalls. His usual naptime outfit is just briefs and a t-shirt. Denim isn't the most comfortable to sleep in, though Bucky hadn't even thought about it until Steve said so. But Steve was right. Usually is.

After their nap, Steve staples the book and reads it to Bucky and Sloth in the armchair. And then they go outside. Bucky loves outside. There are lots of trees and he and Steve can just tromp around. Bucky can run. He climbed a tree early the first week, but his shoulder hurt so badly that night and Steve said they'd have to be careful about tree-climbing in the future. But pain is a pretty good deterrent for Bucky, so he just runs around, mostly. He talks about trees, makes up stories about all the different ones, and Steve listens to him. It feels good.

Steve orders Chinese food for dinner. Lee drops it off. They watch Aladdin and eat egg rolls and fried rice until Bucky is too full to move. He lounges on top of Steve right up until bath time.

Steve reads two stories before bed and stays rubbing Bucky's back until he falls asleep. As he is drifting off, Bucky thinks about how this has been his favorite day ever.

He only gets in trouble one more time and it's for using bad words. He got a warning earlier in the week for cursing when he'd stubbed his toe, but when he is in the middle of building a tower and it falls and he curses like he's still in the army, Steve takes him into his office (because Bucky never gets spanked in his playroom), pulls down his shorts and briefs, and spanks his bottom bright red.

Bucky reckons he deserved that one, but he still cries as he tries to rub the sting out of his poor bottom.

The worst day is the last Saturday. Because it's the last day period. He is extra clingy, cries easily, and doesn't want Steve to be out of sight. Ever. He just trails him, quiet, Sloth hugged to his chest.

Steve seems sad too, cuddles him a lot, looks at him often, especially when he thinks Bucky won't know. He usually knows, though.

They don't talk much. And his bath doesn't leave him feeling as good as it usually does, even though Steve brushes and braids his hair after.

They cuddle for a long time. Bucky falls asleep still in Steve's arms.

Bucky wakes up by himself for the first time in two weeks and feels disoriented. Steve wakes him up every morning. Carries him to the chair. Where is Steve?

"Daddy?" Bucky calls, but there is no answer. He climbs out of bed and goes downstairs. No Steve. Anywhere.

In the kitchen sits a pot of coffee and some poppyseed muffins resting against the plastic part of the pot is a card with Bucky's name across the front.

He tears it open.

_Bucky, an emergency in the city has pulled me away from you too early. I don't know when I can get back, so I've asked Lee to take you home. There is no rush. Take as long as you'd like._

_I've had such a wonderful two weeks with you. You are the most darling little boy I could have asked for, so sweet and good-hearted. I am very lucky to have had the honor of being your Daddy. I'm going to miss this time we've spent together a lot. Thank you for trusting me._

_I transferred the promised funds this morning, but please take anything you'd like from your bedroom or playroom. Everything was bought for you. It is, for all intents and purposes, yours. You are a very natural little, so it might be nice for you to have some little clothes and toys of your own._

_Again, I'm sorry I cannot be there but thank you. Please know that this had been wonderful for me. I hope it has been wonderful for you too._

_Steve._

Bucky rips the note up. He considers leaving the bits on the counter but puts them in the trash and runs upstairs. He slams the door to his bedroom and sits on the bed. Bucky cries. He clutches Sloth and cries into his fur.

Steve _left_. He isn't even here to say goodbye. Just a note. And a reminder that this was a job. A well-paid, a little out of the ordinary job, but Bucky had been able to forget that for a while. Because being Steve's little boy felt right. And he'd intended to tell him so now, out of the little headspace. To say that he wanted to stay. Or... at least explore more of this.

He'd hope the same from Steve, but... it was just a job. And Steve had gotten what he wanted. Bucky had gotten paid. End of transaction. 

Bucky's chest hurts. He doesn't take anything except his backpack and Harley, who Steve must have put back into his bowl earlier that morning. And he leaves. 

They've just left the front gates when Bucky wants to beg Lee to turn around because he left Sloth behind. But he'd meant to. He debated, almost put the stuffed toy in his backpack a dozen times, but he didn't. Couldn't.

He regrets it now. He just wants to curl up with his stuffed friend.

Bucky hates his apartment. He hates his bedroom with its white walls. He hates the lumpy mattress and mismatched furniture. None of it is right.

He waits for days to see if Steve will text him. Check-in on him. Make sure he's doing alright. But he doesn't.

It makes Bucky cry. He feels so weak, but he has trouble falling asleep by himself now. He misses Steve rubbing his back until he falls asleep. He misses Sloth too.

Food had always been hard. Bucky isn't always hungry. But it's even harder now. Because he'd gotten so used to eating well and having the structure and now he's not hungry at all and everything he does manage to make is bad.

He doesn't ever remember being so useless in his whole life. Two weeks of being Steve's little boy and Bucky can suddenly do nothing.

He knows it's because he's upset. He knows this is how he gets when his depression starts to get worse and that he needs to make an appointment with his counselor before he spirals too badly. But he hurts. He feels like he's been flayed open and left to dry in the sun.

He lasts a week and a day before he calls Steve, pissed as hell.

"Bucky, hi, this isn't a good time," Steve says quickly when he answers. His voice seems hesitant.

"You ruined me," Bucky spits.

"Excuse me?" And that voice is one Bucky knows well, the one that usually comes before a warning swat.

"You heard me. You pulled this thing out of me. Got me nice and comfortable and then you left. Gone. Poof. You haven't even texted me to check in! What kind of a Dom are you even?"

"I was your client, James," Steve growls into the phone. "And I'm seriously in the middle of something and cannot talk right now."

Bucky hangs up. He throws his phone across the room and then he cries. Steve was his client. He isn't sure why he even called anymore. Maybe to know if Steve was happy to hear from him. If it meant anything to Steve. If Bucky was more than just a sex worker willing to do some off-the-wall kinky shit. But he'd heard it. A client. Steve was a client.

And Bucky? Well, he's a mess of a human. Because he wants his Daddy. And he knows, doesn't even have to dig that deep, that Steve is his Daddy. It's the first thing that's felt right in a long time. But it wasn't ever meant to last, he knows. It had an expiration date from day one and he went and did the stupid thing of catching feelings for a client. Because he had. He wants Steve to be his Daddy. And, the thing was, that he also wants to be with Steve when he doesn't feel five years old. He likes the idea of waking up with him, sharing his meals, taking walks together. He likes, a lot, the idea of Steve throwing him up on the counter and kissing him. Which just means he's double fucked. Because now he wants more than Steve ever offered. But he has fallen deep.

Steve is his _person._ How can he be expected to live when his person doesn’t want him?

Bucky falls asleep on his couch.

It's dark when he wakes up to a knocking on the door. Loud, insistent knocking. He pushes himself up and manages to flip a light on and blind himself before he pulls open the door.

Steve. His big body takes up the whole door frame and he looks mad. He has a cut on his cheek that has been glued together.

Bucky looks at him for a long time, doesn't say anything and then he turns and walks toward his bedroom. He crawls under the blankets. He doesn't want to hear what he already knows.

"Bucky," Steve says from what sounds like the bedroom doorway. He sounds mad.

"You didn't have to come all this way to tell me I'm stupid," Bucky replies, curling into himself.

A big sigh. The bed dips slightly.

"I didn't come to tell you that you're stupid. I came because I don't understand. And because you hung up on me and then never picked up again."

"You're a client."

"That was the agreement." His blanket is pulled back. "Bucky, please talk to me."

"I'm not your little boy," Bucky says and even though he means it to sound like he isn't Steve's, so Steve can't make him do anything, it comes out in a sob. Because saying that hurts more than he thought it could.

Bucky holds both his hands over his face, trying to hold everything in, but his whole body shakes.

"Do you want to be?" Steve asks after a few seconds. "My little boy?"

"Yeah," Bucky cries, "but I'm not. And you paid up and left. Like you were supposed to. But I couldn't tell you. Was gonna tell you but you were _gone_."

Steve reaches out and rests a hand on Bucky's hip. "I did have an emergency. But I was also scared that I'd beg you to stay. To be my little boy for good."

Bucky doesn't move. He is still curled up, facing away from Steve.

"You're my right Daddy," Bucky whispers. "I feel it. Meant to be my Daddy. And... other things. I think you're my person, Steve."

"I feel like that too," Steve says. "That you're my perfect boy. But... also more. Everything I've always been looking for."

Bucky turns. He can see Steve's face just barely, shadowed by streetlight.

"Daddy."

Steve moves closer. He wraps his arms around Bucky and pulls him into his lap.

"Daddy, please don't leave," Bucky cries.

"I'm not going to," Steve says. "Not ever, okay? You're my little boy."

Bucky clings to him, buries his face against his neck, cries, but Steve doesn't let go of him, just holds him.

"I think maybe we were both a little dumb," Steve says. "Wanting the same thing, but too afraid to ask."

Bucky sniffs and presses his face against Steve's neck.

"Do you want to come home with me?" Steve asks. "Lee is waiting in the car."

Bucky nods. He lets Steve carry him, points to where keys are, shoes, doesn't even start to un-cling until Steve has put him into the back of the black SUV. He buckles his seatbelt but leans in. He needs to be touching him.

He isn't aware of much. Knows they stop. Knows Steve carries him into a building, and they go up an elevator.

"Daddy, where are we?" Bucky asks when they get off the elevator.

"My apartment, honey," Steve replies.

Bucky pulls back and his eyes fill with tears. "Daddy, Sloth as at your house. I was angry. I left him on my bed." The tears start to fall down his cheeks.

"Oh, angel, don't cry," Steve says, holding him tighter. "Sloth is right here. I brought him from the house, so he didn't have to be all alone."

"You did?"

Steve nods. "What about a bath and then we can go to bed? It's late."

Bucky just nods.

The bath helps to settle him. He comes out warm and pliant, just like usual, and he is wrapped up in a big towel and carried to the bedroom. Bucky doesn't like this one as much as the house bedroom with its reds and dark woods, but it's not important. Steve dresses him in one of his shirts, way too big. But Bucky doesn't care. He finds himself wrapped up in Steve's arms, nestled into a bed that smells like home, Sloth snuggled up between them. And he's happy. If someone had told him a month ago that he'd be Captain America's little boy, he'd have laughed in their face, but here he is. And he's happy. And right.

**Author's Note:**

> Catch me on tumblr~ siriuslyuptonogood


End file.
